Monstrous
by Whataman20934
Summary: A strange monster attacks the fellowship. (NO SLASH) (Please read and review!)
1. A Legend

****

Monstrous

by Leafy

Rating: PG-13 for some violence, attitude, and tense situations.

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

**********

"It's just a legend," Aragorn growled.

"It's not a legend. It's _legendary_," replied Gandalf, sitting down next to him and gripping his staff. "There is a difference, a significant one at that."

"Legend or legendary, we ought to keep a sharp lookout," said Boromir, entering the circle of the camp.

"Lookout for what?" Pippin entered, chewing on a bit of bread.

"Haven't you been paying attention--and is that _my_ bread?" Boromir asked sharply.

"No on both counts," said Pippin, shoving the rest of the bread into his mouth. "So, lookout for what?" he continued, thickly through the bread.

Boromir sighed and Aragorn put his head in his hands.

"The monster, Pip," mumbled Merry, from where he sat.

"What monster?" Pippin's eyes widened.

"_The_ monster. The monster that is said to live in this forest."

"A monster lives in this forest?" Pippin exclaimed.

"No, it does not!" Aragorn retorted. "It's just a legend. That's why we're not going around this wood, and wasting at least two more days here."

"Does Frodo know about this?" Pippin demanded.

"Of _course_, he does. Weren't you listening to anything said just a moment ago?"

"I don't think he was paying attention," said Boromir suspiciously, searching through his much-lighter pack for something to eat.

"Oh yes, I was!" Pippin began. "But, er…in case I wasn't listening--to all of it," he quickly added, seeing the look on Aragorn's face, "what, uhm, what exactly makes this thing--monstrous?"

Again, it was Merry who answered.

"It can change forms," he said. "And it feeds on bad feelings and emotions--like guilt and anger. So, it can change into anything--or anyone--and then it makes you feel something like what it feeds on. It makes you feel just as much of it as you can, then," he paused for dramatic emphasis, "it sucks that emotion clean out of you. You lose it and, unless you kill the monster, you can never get it back."

"Glad to see _someone_ was listening," said Boromir, now searching through Aragorn's pack for some food.

"But it _is_ just a legend. Nothing more," Aragorn said firmly, taking his pack from Boromir, handing him an apple from it, then closing it at his own feet.

Pippin looked around now, a bit on edge.

"Where _is_ Frodo?" he asked.

"Off getting water and some more firewood with Sam and Gimli," said Legolas, from his watchful position at the edge of the clearing. "Or perhaps just Sam. Here comes Gimli."

Sure enough, Gimli appeared then in the firelight, holding an armload of dry branches. 

"Are the halflings not back yet?" he asked, looking around. 

"You split up?" Aragorn asked.

"Well, yes--they said they were just going to follow the stream a bit farther, then meet me back here."

Just then, Sam came stumbling through the underbrush.

"Is Frodo here?" he asked anxiously.

"No--did _you_ split up?" asked Aragorn, standing.

"Technically--we got separated," Sam choked. "I bent down to the water only for a moment, then, when I stood up, he was gone."

"We need to find him," Aragorn began.

"What about, 'it's just a legend'?" Boromir asked critically.

"Even so, it's not safe for him--or any of us--to be alone," Aragorn replied.

**********

Frodo ran downstream, following the current. The wooden bucket he and Sam had brought for the water had fallen in the water, and was rapidly being swept away.

Just then, Frodo tripped on a precarious root, falling flat on his face. Recovering, he sat up on the bank, trying to locate the bucket in the water, but it was too far gone for him to even see.

Scraping the dirt and moss off of his chin, Frodo turned around, and was delighted to see that the bucket had somehow made its way back onto the bank behind him.

"The current must've changed," he thought to himself, picking it up and filling it with water.

Hanging the bucket in the crook of his arm, Frodo turned around and began making his way back to the camp. Almost immediately, he noticed the handle of the bucket growing increasingly snug around his arm. Alarmed, Frodo tried to remove it, but found that it had already grown too tight, and was growing tighter. No matter how hard he pulled, he couldn't get it of his arm.

Spilling out the water in the bucket, Frodo took off running back upstream, toward where he'd last seen Sam. 

Mercifully, he was almost immediately intercepted by Aragorn, Sam, and Gandalf.

"Frodo--" Aragorn began, but stopped short, narrowly dodging a punch in the stomach as Frodo thrust his bucket-clad arm at him.

"Help me!" Frodo cried. "I can't get it off!"

Sam lunged and grabbed the bucket, and began pulling at it with all his strength. Aragorn quickly followed suit.

"That won't help!" Gandalf cried. "Aragorn, you must _stab_ it!"

"_Stab_ it?" Aragorn repeated incredulously. "The bucket?"

"It is the only way! Quickly!"

Pushing Sam out of the way and lifting up Frodo's arm, Aragorn complied, running his sword through the lower middle half of the bucket.

Instantly, it vanished, leaving nothing but Aragorn's now blood-stained sword just under Frodo's outstretched arm. They lowered them both.

Aragorn took the blade into his hands, looking at the redness on it.

"Is that blood?" asked Sam, then turned, trying to get a look at Frodo's arm.

Aragorn nodded. He looked up at Gandalf, who was still standing.

"What does this mean? What was that?" he asked.

"The monster," said Gandalf meaningfully.

Frodo and Sam looked up in concerned unison.

"Come," said Aragorn, standing and resheathing his sword. "Back to the camp. We have to leave, right now. We'll have to go around this wood."

"That's _fine_," said Frodo, holding his still-sore arm gingerly, as he walked.

"I don't understand. If the bucket _was_ the monster--the shape it took--then, didn't you kill it just now?" Sam asked, following Aragorn.

"It still had the energy to flee; I believe Aragorn has just wounded the monster," said Gandalf evenly. "Aragorn is right--we must leave as quickly as possible."

"So, where is the monster now?" Sam asked.

As if this was its cue, a giant, hideous monster with long, sharp teeth and claws, bulging, pale, pupil-less eyes, and scaly, slimy black skin leaped down from a branch overhead, raised a formidable limb, and punted a terrified Frodo back down the slope, toward the river. Instantly, the monster took off in alarming pursuit. Sam, Gandalf and Aragorn rushed after it.

At the water's edge, Frodo scrambled to his feet, looking frantically about for the beast, or his friends, whichever showed up first. Naturally, it ended up being the former.

Before Frodo could move, the monster sprang forward, pinning him against a tree. Speechless with fright, Frodo looked into the monster's sallow eyes as it blinked and snarled at him. The monster opened it mouth, wide, wide enough to swallow Frodo's entire head. But instead of leaning forward, as the hobbit expected, it began making a loud sucking noise. 

Suddenly, Frodo no longer felt afraid. He no longer felt anything. His eyelids fluttered, he slumped forward, and passed out. The monster disappeared again, leaving Frodo in a heap on the ground.

**********

"Frodo!" Sam cried, skidding down the wooded slope toward his friend's unconscious body. Landing at Frodo's side, he shook his shoulder, as if to wake him.

Miraculously, he did wake up, sitting up numbly.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked anxiously, leaning forward slightly and looking into his eyes.

"Of course, I am!" Frodo said, leaning back, a look of vague repulsion on his face.

Sam furrowed his brow.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"The monster got to him," said Gandalf, coming down the slope. 

"What do you mean?" Sam exclaimed in horror. "What's happened?"

"It's taken away his fear," Gandalf replied. "Frodo, don't do that."

He leaned down and took the ring, which Frodo had taken out and was playing with absently, twirling it on the tips of his fingers. Frodo made a grab for it as Gandalf hid it away inside his own robes.

"What d'you do that for?" Frodo hissed angrily leaping to his feet. He reached for his sword, and Aragorn lunged forward, grabbing his arm to stop him. Frodo tried to swat Aragorn's hand away, but with no success, as it was so much bigger than his own.

"Calm down," said Aragorn, taking Frodo's sword out of his reach. He looked at Gandalf.

"What does this mean?" he asked. 

"It means that, as of right now, Frodo is incapable of feeling fear," replied Gandalf gravely.

Sam's mouth dropped open.

"_Ever_?" he gasped.

"Unless we slay the monster."

"Yes!" Frodo threw in enthusiastically, attempting to sock Aragorn in the kneecap for his sword.

"Then that's what we must do," said Aragorn, sidestepping Frodo's punch. "We can't leave him like this forever, he can't live this way. And how can he be expected to destroy the ring, reduced to a brash fool?"

"Who are you calling a fool?" Frodo demanded, his face reddening. "And, give me back my sword, you coward! And you," he faced Gandalf, "return my ring at once, if you wish to live to see another day! You're just a bunch of craven thieves, the trio of you!"

"What did I do?" asked Sam, mildly offended.

"Silence!" Frodo snapped.

"He's not himself, Samwise," Gandalf reminded him, seeing the hurt look Sam wore. "He is without fear and will therefore be inclined to be a bit nasty."

"I'm nasty now, am I?" said Frodo bemusedly. "You're really looking for a fight, aren't you, old man?"

"Let us go back to the camp," said Gandalf, turning away.

"Camp? We can't go back to the camp yet! We have to destroy the monster!" Frodo exclaimed.

"All in good time, Frodo," said Aragorn, seizing a handful of the hobbit's dirt-ridden cloak and dragging him back up the slope.

"But we have to do it _now_, right now!" Frodo insisted, his heels scraping against the ground. "Before that monster takes in one more self-assured breath!"

~ End of Part 1 ~


	2. Second Strike

****

Monstrous

by Leafy

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Before we continue, I want to thank all of you for reviewing the first story. J 

***

"Is there any way to restore him without killing the monster?" Boromir inquired, looking over at Frodo, who was sitting quietly by the first, trimming his fingernails with one of Legolas' long white knives, which he'd found waiting to be sharpened.

"I'm afraid not," said Aragorn. "We'll have to keep on the lookout for it."

Aragorn tried to ignore Boromir's smug look as he said this.

"There's no need to go looking for it, though. According to Gandalf, now that it's sapped Frodo, it will return for the rest of us very soon."

"And when it does, we'll be ready!" Frodo yelped, briefly raising the knife over his head, then returning it to his nails.

"And when we kill it, Frodo will return to normal?" said Boromir, casting the hobbit a disbelieving look.

"Yes, that's what Gandalf said," replied Aragorn.

"I _am_ normal," grunted Frodo.

Just then, Legolas entered the circle of the campsite, followed by the three other hobbits and Gimli.

"It's here," breathed Legolas, looking concernedly at Aragorn. "It's coming."

Instantly, Frodo leaped to his feet, brandishing the knife, which Legolas promptly took from him.

"Will _someone_ furnish me with a weapon?" Frodo demanded fiercely. 

"How close is it?" Aragorn asked, standing.

"Very," said Merry, looking pale and nervous. "I thought for sure it could smell us."

"It's here," said Legolas, looking back into the trees.

Aragorn drew his sword, as did Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Boromir. Legolas, who had resheathed the purloined knife, drew his bow, flanked by Gimli and Gandalf. Frodo, after pausing to assess the situation, picked up a rock and a stick and positioned himself in front of the others.

A low, persistent growling could suddenly be heard just beyond the firelight, and a shadow separated itself from the darkness, moving forward, toward the on-guard fellowship.

"Legolas," Aragorn murmured, not taking his eyes off the spectral movement.

Instantly, an arrow flew off into the darkness. The growling was replaced a sudden, thunderous howl of pain, and the hideous monster from beside the river leaped forward, into the firelight. Legolas loosed another arrow, which struck the beast in the same place as the first. The monster leaped toward him, now thoroughly put out, but Legolas moved out of the way, firing again. Aragorn seized his opportunity, and ran his sword through the monster's leg. It howled again and turned, baring its teeth at him. Gimli swung his axe and the hobbits stepped forward, swords drawn, but Gandalf hung back, his hand around his staff. His mind raced, and yet, he could think of nothing that he might do.

Frodo hurled himself onto the monster's shoulders, beating at its neck and shoulders with his nearly useless weapons, shrieking in frenzied fury.

"Frodo--!" Merry faltered, moving closer to the thrashing beast.

The monster seized its chance and leaped through the space Merry had opened up. Frodo was hurled to the ground, landing with a thud and copious rude words directed at the fleeing thing.

"After it!" cried Aragorn, and they ran out of the camp and through the trees.

It was very dark by that time, and the trees and foliage in the wood were profuse. It wasn't long before the fellowship was separated, but they all continued running in the same direction, toward the beast's panting.

Still, no one was there to notice when Boromir stumbled as he ran, landing hard on the ground. Beginning to get up, his eyes fell on something quite unusual on the ground. Something small and shiny.

It was the ring.

Boromir scrambled to his knees.

How could Frodo have dropped it? How could he have been so careless? Didn't this mission matter to him? Probably not, in his condition.

Come to think of it, why hadn't they taken the ring away from Frodo sooner, just until he returned to normal? This finding definitely seemed to prove that they should, at least for now. 

Boromir rose, extending his hand over the ring in the leaves. He should just take the ring, hide it safely away in his cloak, then give it back to Frodo when he could be relied on to think straight again.

Boromir reached down, closing his hand around the ring on its chain. Yes, that's just what he'd do. Keep the ring, so as to keep it safe, and then return it to Frodo when he was restored to normal.

"But why?" thought Boromir suddenly. Why must he give the ring to Frodo? He didn't seem to care that much about its safety, why else would it be laying here in the clearing? It was as if the ring didn't matter to Frodo.

"Well, it matters to _me_," Boromir thought, with vicious resolution. He thrust the ring inside his cloak, then patted it from the outside. "Yes," he thought, "this is right, what is meant to be."

He would take the ring. He would take it all the way to Mount Doom, and he, Boromir, would destroy it.

Again, the question "why?" arose in his mind. Why should he destroy this valuable ring? Just because Gandalf had said so, made everyone believe that it had to be done? What did he know anyway, the old fool? It was Boromir's ring now, and he would keep it, and he would use it to protect his people. 

"_No, no_," Boromir thought, his face contorting violently. It was _his_ ring, _he_ found it, it belonged to _him_, and he would use it just how _he_ wanted. He would use it however and whenever he _pleased_.

Instantly, Boromir reached into his cloak and pulled out the ring. As he withdrew it, though, an alarming thing happened. The ring began to grow bigger and bigger, until it more reassembled a bracelet than a ring. Boromir's eyes widened. _What was going on?_

Suddenly, a loud sucking noise started up, appearing to come from the ring in Boromir's hands. His hands began to shake with the force coming from ring. Boromir tilted his hands, trying to drop it, but it seemed somehow latched onto his palm. Before he could do anything more, he was overcome by an irresistible feeling of weariness. He dropped his hand to his side, and closed his eyes slowly, and blacked out.

**********

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, and the hobbits finally met up at the other end of the trees, on the edge of a ravine.

"_Two_ days," Gimli retorted, panting. "More like thirty seconds, I'd say."

"We're not yet out of these woods, Master Gimli," said Aragorn wearily, looking about. "Where's Boromir?"

The others began to look about them as well, but no one saw his anywhere. 

"I hope--" Pippin began, but stopped short, quickly realizing that no one wanted to hear voiced what he--and everyone else--feared had happened to Boromir.

Aragorn turned and ran back into the woods, rapidly followed by the others, shouting Boromir's name.

"Boromir!" called Legolas, moving swiftly through the trees.

He stepped into a clearing, and was immediately confronted with Boromir, lying limp on the ground. He knelt at his side. 

"I've found him!" cried Legolas, looking back through the trees.

Aragorn and Gandalf appeared instantly in the clearing, followed by the others. Aragorn knelt down beside Legolas, grasping Boromir's shoulder. He looked up at Gandalf. 

"The monster?"

"Yes, I'm afraid," replied the wizard, looking down dolefully.

Boromir stirred.

"What's going on?" he mumbled, sitting up.

"The monster got to you," said Aragorn.

"Did it?" Boromir asked anxiously, whipping head around. "Well, it's gone now, hasn't it? I mean to say, it won't bother anyone else now, will it? Will it?" 

"We don't know where it went," said Aragorn, looking confused.

Boromir looked horror-stricken, as if Aragorn had actually said that it was right behind him, poised to bite his head off. 

"Well, we should leave then, shouldn't we? We have to find it; we can't let its reign of intimidation continue. I'll lead the way!" Boromir straightened up abruptly and set off out of the clearing.

"Thank goodness _someone's_ ready to take action," said Frodo, starting after him.

"Wait!" called Aragorn, getting up and running after them.

But Frodo, who probably wouldn't have waited anyway, was too busy babbling to his newly acquired kindred spirit to even hear Aragorn.

"If it attacked you over there, it's possible that it ran off in this direction," he said. "I lost my stick, of course, and _no_ _one_ will give me something decent to fight with, so I'll just have to use _these_," Frodo balled up his fists and showed them to Boromir as he jogged along next to him.

"Oh, well, here, you can have mine," said Boromir immediately, drawing out his own sword and handing it to Frodo, who beamed like a small child receiving a large lollipop.

"That isn't a very good idea," warned Aragorn, then had to dodge as Frodo thrust the sharp tip of the sword backward at him in an effort to get him to shut up. Apart from that, his statement went completely unnoticed and unheeded. 

Trailing behind the unstable duo with the rest of the fellowship, Pippin ran up next to Gandalf and tugged at the wizard's long robes. He looked down at the hobbit as they walked.

"What's it done to Boromir?" Pippin inquired in a whisper.

Gandalf looked back up at Boromir, who'd now allowed his shield to slide down out of place on his back, as he walked along listening to Frodo, who was still talking as fast as he could and clutching his newly-procured sword.

"Judging by his behavior, it's taken away his self-concern," Gandalf replied.

"His what?"

"His self-concern. His selfishness, also. Simply put, Boromir is now the most selfless being in Middle Earth.

"Oh," said Pippin, thinking this new information over. "Well…that's not so bad, is it?"

"It's _quite_ bad, actually," said Gandalf, shifting his gaze now to Frodo, who had run ahead of Boromir a few paces, and was leaning forward slightly as he walked, looking up at every sound in the wood, as if egging it on.

"I've been watching Frodo, and it seems that he's becoming more and more fearless--and more and more dangerous," explained Gandalf gravely. "Most likely, Boromir, too, will get progressively worse in his condition. He will not only stopped caring for himself--but he will also begin hating himself. Soon, he will believe that he deserves nothing at all--not food or water, the clothes on his back, friends…or even life."

Pippin's eyes widened.

"You mean, he'll try to _kill_ himself?" he gasped.

"No, no," said Gandalf, looking down at Pippin. "He'll become increasingly careless about his own safety, lose all belief in himself. In these ways, he will probably, however unintentionally, put all of us in danger with himself, and he may lose his life," Gandalf stifled a sigh, trying to keep himself from completely destroying Pippin's moral. "Or, in the best situation, he'll just be extremely useless to us as a warrior and such," Gandalf added quickly.

Pippin opened his mouth to respond to this, but was cut off by an exclamation of anguished horror from Aragorn, in front of him.

"Oh, no," he moaned. "I can't believe it!"

"What?" exclaimed Boromir and Frodo together. 

"Gimli's gone," said Aragorn desperately.

Boromir looked thunderstruck.

"Well, we must find him, mustn't we?" he cried. "We must find our friend, and deliver him from whatever peril has befallen him!"

"I'll lead," said Frodo.

~~ End of Part 2 


	3. Gimli, Son of Gloin

****

Monstrous

by Leafy

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Thank you for the nice reviews, everybody. J 

***

  
"Take care now, Gimli," the dwarf thought to himself, stepping cautiously between the trees. "There's an emotion-thirsty monster on the rampage somewhere 'round here, you've been separated from your comrades, and your axe has snapped in two. Still, all in a day's work for a son of Gloin."

Suddenly, there came a barely audible rustling in the leaves behind Gimli's head. He wheeled around, swinging half of his axe (the half with the head attached) blindly at the movement. 

Legolas appeared on the spot, dodging the weapon. He looked down at the axe that had just missed him, then looked inquisitively back at Gimli.

"Erm, sorry," Gimli mumbled sheepishly, returning the axe to his side. 

Legolas nodded, his expression unchanging, then focused his attention on the much-shorter handle of the weapon.

"What happened to your axe?" he inquired.

"Oh! Uhm--it broke."

"_Really_," said Legolas, with mock fascination. "I thought Dwarven weapons are only just shy of indestructible."

"They are, unless you swing them at a boulder by mistake," Gimli confessed, not noticing the elf's sarcasm.

Legolas stepped forward into the clearing, allowing the moonlight to catch his face briefly. Gimli thought he looked strange--worn out, ragged. Gimli didn't take as much notice of this, though, as he did of the expression of repugnance Legolas now wore, as he looked down at Gimli once more, then turned, bridling in disgust, back to the trees, his bow drawn. 

"Only a dwarf could be capable of such stupidity," he sniffed.

Gimli's mouth opened in shock.

"_What_ did you say?" he demanded fiercely. 

"You heard me," Legolas retorted, not bothering to turn around.

"Indeed, I'm hoping I heard you wrong," said Gimli dangerously, narrowing his eyes.

"Unless you heard me say something about how intelligent this proves you are, no, you didn't hear me wrong."

"Have you gone _mad_, Master Elf?" Gimli barked furiously, his eyes bulging with hatred.

"Perhaps," Legolas looked back at him and smiled. He turned full around then, and bent down so as to be at eye-level with Gimli. "But rest assured, Master Dwarf. If I have, it will only ensure clearer communication between the two of us."

That was all Gimli needed to hear.

Bellowing in fury, he raised his crippled axe. He did not care what the others might think. Legolas had insulted him, humiliated him, and treated him like he was worth nothing! Gimli had never been so angry in his life before. He aimed a blow at the cocky elf's shoulder, but was very much surprised when Legolas reached forward and caught the axe by the sharp end, slicing into his own hand. He yanked it out of the dwarf's grip, tossed it aside, and opened his mouth quite wide, still facing Gimli, who had backed up as far as he could, pressing his back against the tree trunks. 

The eerie sucking would be the last thing Gimli heard before he fainted.

**********

"This way!" said Legolas, taking off in the direction the ominous noise was coming from, not bothering to wait for the others.

Again, he was the first to reach the incapacitated victim. He was followed instantly by Frodo, who looked disappointed to say the least that it was only the victim and not the monster that had been found. Next came Boromir, who looked ready to cry when he saw Gimli lying on the ground, then Aragorn, Gandalf, and the three other hobbits.

Gimli awoke instantly, without Legolas needing to so much as touch him. He sat bolt upright, blinking wide eyes at his friends.

"You're all here, then!" said Gimli jovially, sounding like one trying to stifle a laugh. "I'm so glad," he beamed at Legolas, who looked back, completely baffled. "What's happened? The monster?" Gimli asked, sounding almost hopeful.

"Yes, Gimli," said Gandalf solemnly.

Gimli nodded most politely up at the wizard then turned his attention to the broken axe next to him, on the ground.

"Well, _this_ is just terrible," said Gimli, not losing the funny tone in his voice. He picked up the weapon, holding a piece in each hand. "_Now_ what shall I fight with?" 

Boromir reached instantly for his own sword, but found his sheath empty. Frodo noticed this and abruptly stepped forward, holding out the sword to Gimli.

"Here," he said stoutly. "I need no aid in killing this abomination. You may use this."

Aragorn opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again when he considered the advantages of fearless Frodo without anything lethal in his possession.

"Very much obliged, Master Frodo," said Gimli rapturously, receiving the blade like it was his firstborn child. "Though, I would be lying if I said that I was looking forward to slaying this beast." 

Frodo looked like he wanted the sword back.

"Why?" Aragorn stammered.

"Well, there's really no need to," Gimli replied meekly. "It's done us no great wrong."

"What are you talking about?" Sam demanded, coming into the center of the clearing. "It's injured you, and Mister Frodo, and Boromir, _and_ it won't stop pursuing us until it's claimed us _all_!"

"Aye, but what's really so horrid about that, Master Samwise?" Gimli responded gently. "Or them?" He turned and smiled warmly at Frodo and Boromir, still standing side-by-side. "I love you both just the way you are."

"Give me back my sword," said Frodo.

"Oh, certainly," Gimli held it out.

"No, no," said Aragorn, catching it at the handle and drawing it away. "I think I'll hold onto this one, too."

"Really, Aragorn," Boromir protested softly. "According to what Frodo's told me, that will make _three_ swords for you. I know I'm being a pest, but surely everyone will agree with me that you're being a bit--greedy?"

Frodo was the only one to react to this, nodding his head fervently.

"Listen--" snapped Aragorn.

"Please," Gimli pleaded, sounding as alarmed as if the trees around them had all just burst into flames. "Must we fight? Should we not be going somewhere now?" 

There was a pause.

"Yes," said Aragorn hopelessly. "Back to the camp, before we lose anyone else. We'll figure out what to do in the morning."

~~End of Part 3


	4. Another Loss

**Monstrous**

**by**** Leafy**

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

                Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Thank you for the nice reviews, everybody. J 

A few catch-ups on my part:

**Robin Gurl: Thanks for the lovely review! I'm quite glad you like it. I checked at a Tolkien source, and they said that Gandalf can touch the ring, only he reeeeeeeally doesn't want to, something that I'll be dealing with later in the story. Thanks for helping me out! J**

**Europa****: Thanks for the nice reviews, I'm very happy that you're enjoying the story. What Gimli lost will be made clear in this chapter. Thanks again! J******

**Sarridy****: I'm glad you like my story, too. Yeah, it does seem like those affected become a complete opposite of themselves, huh? Wait'll you see what happens to Legolas. ;-) Thanks!**

**Tiggivon****: It's so cool, you watch Red Dwarf, too! I love that episode, too. And by the way, yeah, I think you know what I have in mind for Leggy. J**** Thanks for the review! **

**Thank you also, Lady Mercury. J ****Very kind of you.**

And now, on with the story!

*              *              *

Merry's eyes fluttered open, and he sat up groggily, looking about at the dim campsite.

He had been asleep, lying on his cloak next to the fire. He had woken up because he'd felt something poke him in the shoulder. Merry looked around.

There was no one in the immediate vicinity, except Aragorn behind him, sitting up on a log. Supposedly, he had been keeping watch over to camp, but his gaze was fixed on Merry.

"What's going on?" Merry asked.

"It's your watch," said Aragorn gruffly, then stood up. 

"But, I just went before you, didn't I?" Merry protested, stifling a yawn.

"Yes, but Pippin looks _tired_," said Aragorn softly, spreading his own cloak on the ground on the other side of the fire.

Merry got up and moved over to the log.

"So do you," he said, looking Aragorn over.

Aragorn laughed dismissively, lying down on the ground.

Merry sighed, rubbed his eyes, and plopped down onto the log. He couldn't help but feel annoyed. He did, of course, realize that there weren't as many of them able to help keep watch, but he felt like he'd barely gone to sleep before he was woken up again.

"Tired?" said Aragorn, looking up at Merry from his makeshift bed. He seemed a little smug.

"A bit," Merry admitted shortly, rubbing sleep from his eyes again.

"Mmm. Well, it _is_ late," Aragorn continued, seeming to agree with the hobbit. "Still, my six hours were up, so--"

"_Six_ hours?" Merry interrupted, shocked.

"Oh, yes--I took over for Sam, he looked tired, too."

"Suppose _I_ mustn't have looked very tired," Merry thought resentfully, turning away from Aragorn and back to the trees.

He _was_ still tired--_quite_ tired, despite the six hours of sleep he'd just found out about. And what was six hours anyway? Not much at all. _He_ couldn't help it if he was still tired. He'd had a hard day. A hard, hard day. 

Merry allowed himself to slide off the log and onto the ground. He leaned his head against the log. He didn't have to pay super-close attention, anyway. The monster had already had three helping of heated emotions that day; Frodo's fear, Boromir's self-interest, and Gimli's anger, as Gandalf had explained earlier. Surely, the beast wouldn't bother them again, at least until morning.

Merry's eyes shut, but he forced them to open again. No, he had to stay awake, he had to stay alert and watch for the monster.

Just then, Merry heard someone approaching from behind. He turned to see Aragorn, standing on the other side of the log.

"If you're very tired, I can take over for you," he said coaxingly.

"Oh, no, thanks," said Merry. "You need sleep, too. You certainly look like it."

"I'm fine," Aragorn insisted. "And look at you--you're so weary, you can't even stay on the log."

Aragorn took a seat.

"Just rest a little while longer, why don't you? I'll let you know if I get tired."

"Uhm…"said Merry in feeble protest, but he could no longer think straight. He was too tired. 

"Alright," he said finally, collapsing onto his side on the leaves and shutting his eyes. He was asleep instantly, and didn't even hear the sucking noise begin behind his head.

**********

"Where's Merry?" Aragorn demanded, standing between Pippin's occupied cloak and Merry's empty one, looking down at the sleeping one.

"Huh?" Pippin sat up, blearily looking over at Merry's vacant space.

"I dunno," he began, rather alarmed. "Can't you find him?"

"No," said Aragorn. "I was hadn't taken over for him twenty minutes when Sam came and told me he wasn't here."

"Oh, no," Pippin stood up, hurrying to the edge of the clearing. "Merry!" he called worriedly, honestly expecting this to work.

"Yes?" came the instant response.

Merry stepped out from the trees behind Pippin and Aragorn. He was carrying a large pile of neatly chopped firewood, on top of which was balanced Gimli's axe, with what looked like a new handle.

Aragorn gave him a puzzled look.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"Just chopping some wood," answered Merry insouciantly. "I noticed we were a bit low," he set down his perfect stack next to the still-sizable pile of sticks and brush Gimli had brought back earlier.

"I didn't hear you, though," said Aragorn, not taking his eyes off the hobbit, who was adding logs to the fire and neatening up the second pile of kindling, simultaneously.

"Oh, the really _good_ trees were on the other side of the river," he explained, finishing with the wood. He went quickly over to his pack, pulled out a piece of flint and, sitting up quite straight on a log, began sharpening the axe.

"Is that Gimli's axe?" Pippin asked, studying his cousin and friend with the same concerned curiosity as Aragorn.

"Yes, it is. He said that I could borrow it, and seemed very pleased that I fixed the handle," said Merry. He paused and looked up at the pair. "What's the matter? Is it my turn to stand guard again?"

"You just finished," Aragorn reminded him.

"Still, if you're at all tired, I can take over for you. I don't mind in the least."

"No, you need to sleep," replied Aragorn stiffly. Something was definitely wrong with Merry.

"Sleep!" Merry scoffed amiably. "I don't need _sleep_, anymore than Frodo needs a sword." 

**********

"Sloth," said Gandalf, as he observed Merry, who was systematically reorganizing the interior of everyone's packs whil the soup he'd prepared for breakfast was heating to perfection over the now-roaring fire. "Laziness. Meriadoc won't sleep or rest anymore, now."

"Ever?" Pippin and Sam chorused, looking up at the wizard, away from their amazement at the other hobbit.

"He'll believe he doesn't need to," replied Gandalf. "And nothing we say or do will be able to change that." 

"You mean, besides killing the monster, right?" asked Pippin anxiously.

"Yes, Peregrine," said Gandalf. "All the more reason to try to find the beast as soon as possible."

Merry, who'd been humming energetically to himself, came over to the fire then, somewhat unsteadily, due to the fact that he had nine freshly-carved wooden bowls full of a succulent-smelling, thick soup balanced in his arms. He thrust a bowl at each of the members of the fellowship, who accepted them in turn. Merry ate his standing up, pacing back and forth, occasionally throwing extra fuel on.

Boromir ate about half of his soup, then declared that, while it was very good soup indeed, he didn't see why it should be wasted on him. He dumped the rest back into the pot, then said that he was going to stand guard until the others were ready, before disappearing into the trees. Aragorn, already at his wits' end, bowed his head in frustration at this, inadvertantly dipping the ends of his hair in his soup. Merry tentatively suggested that Aragorn's hair could do with a wash anyway, and had to dodge a half-full bowl of soup as Aragorn left to wait with Boromir.

**********

"What a _fool_ I was, what a selfish fool!" Boromir explained to Aragorn, swinging his sword about carelessly at his side. "I almost don't _want_ to find this beast, honestly, with all it's done for me. Still, if it's taught me anything, it's that my own opinion doesn't matter in the least, so--"

Just then, Frodo came dashing through the trees to speak to Aragorn, who had achieved a very numb state of mind by then.

"Merry's just cleaning up the breakfast things," said Frodo, then turned expectantly to Boromir, who instantly handed him his own sword. "Thanks," he said, then turned back to Aragorn. "Other than that, everyone's ready."

Aragorn nodded gratefully, then headed back up to the camp.

He sighed when he got there, and looked around. The lunacy of the past evening and night had begun to take its toll on him. He hoped fervently that they would find the monster today, soon.

Suddenly, Aragorn stopped dead in his train of thought. He looked all around the camp, turning around even, a full three hundred and sixty degrees.

"No," he thought desperately. "No, it can't be…"

"Come, let us depart!" Gandalf said then. 

The others present slung their packs on their backs and made sure of their weapons, then followed the wizard. All except Aragorn, who remained where he was, looking like his head was about to explode. Gandalf turned back and approached him.

"Aragorn," he said firmly. "Come, we haven't a moment to lose."

"I think that's right," mumbled Aragorn, not making eye contact with him.

"What's wrong?" asked Gandalf, picking up his tone.

Aragorn faced him then.

"Look around," he rasped. "_The elf is gone_." 

~~~End of Part 4

Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to get this part up! I hope you liked it. Please review, if you're in the mood. I'd love to know what you think. J 


	5. The elf is gone

**Monstrous**

**by**** Leafy**

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

                Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Thank you for the nice reviews, everybody. 

**AloriaMoonbeam****: Hehe, thanks. :-)**

**Sarridy****: Good suggestions! Just remember, the monster only takes negative emotions right now. :-) What negative emotion might Lego possess…? :-)**

**N'ataya****: Thank you! I can't take all the credit for the story idea, though. It's based a little bit on an episode of Red Dwarf, but yeah, the writing is mine. :-) Thanks again! **

**P. N. Batgirl: Thanks! When I was outlining the story, I tried to think of what would be the funniest negative aspect to remove from each person.  I'm glad you're enjoying the story! :-)**

**Tiggivon****: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I think it would be sooo cool if they could actually film this…Oh well. Guess we'll just have to settle for our imaginations for now. :-) Thanks again!**

**Europa**** and Marissa: Watch and see, dahlings. :-)**

On with the story!

*              *              *

Legolas stepped uneasily into the clearing. He felt sure he'd heard something coming from this spot. So sure, in fact, that he'd gotten up in the middle of breakfast and left without a word. He'd assumed the others would understand, if it was, in fact, the monster.

He began to feel foolish. It was probably nothing more than a fox or a bird. He turned to go back to the camp, and almost stepped on Gimli, who greeted him with his now-usual sunny grin.

"Top of the morning, Master Elf!" he exploded.

"Sorry about that," replied Legolas absently, looking through the trees and back to the camp, which he could see was empty.

"Have they gone?' he asked, surprised. Surely, they'd have waited for him.

"Oh, _no_," said Gimli sweetly. "They're over on the other side of those trees; they sent me to look for you."

"Oh, well, come on, then," said Legolas, stepping toward the trees.

"Only, they're not ready now," said Gimli, amused. "They think they spotted the monster, right before they sent me to look for you. So now, I'm to stay here with you, so that, if the monster comes back through the camp this way, _we'll_ get him."

"Oh," Legolas turned around, positioned himself next to the dwarf, and drew his bow.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, then Gimli spoke again.

"You know, Master Elf, I think we can vanquish this monster ourselves, just the two of us."

"Indeed," said Legolas shortly, not taking his eyes off the camp.

"In fact, I'm _certain_ that you alone could take care of it," Gimli continued. 

Legolas looked down at him.

"Are you leaving, friend?"

"No, no--I'm just paying you a compliment. You're an astounding warrior, you are."

Legolas blushed and looked abruptly away, back at the camp again.

"As are you, Master Gimli," he said quietly.

"Aye, but compared to you," said Gimli, oozing with admiration, "I'm--inexperienced." 

"Nonsense," said Legolas, looking back down at Gimli, furrowing his brow in confusion. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, of course," Gimli chuckled. "Wonderful, really, since the monster dealt with me. I feel so much more--optimistic now, you know?"

"Of course," muttered Legolas, returning to his post.

"For instance," Gimli continued, "before I was fortunate enough to be changed, I never even _noticed_ how wonderfully perfect you are."

"I'm not perfect," said Legolas automatically.

"Oh, come now," replied Gimli. "You can't expect me to believe _that_. You're an incredible warrior, you're brave, courageous, graceful, intelligent. And handsome, aye, I'll wager you've had your share of romances in your near three thousand years of life."

Legolas flushed ever redder. He knew that Gimli couldn't help acting this way, but it was beginning to become trying.

"Not really," he murmured in response.

"There's no need to be modest," said Gimli, delighted. "_I know_ you must've been quite a presence with the ladies back in your land. How could you not? Don't tell me you've never noticed your own fortunate appearance."

Gimli then thrust his axe, which, thanks to Merry, had been polished to within an inch of its existence and now shone brilliantly, at the elf, tilting it so that the flat end faced up. 

Legolas took it from him, mainly to avoid getting socked in the stomach with it, and looked down, catching his reflection in the metal, mainly to quell Gimli. If the monster was anywhere near, it would surely be able to hear them.

He took in his own face, his hair, his eyes. It had been a long time since Legolas had really studied his own face. Looking at it now, in the bright sun of the morning, in the shining face of Gimli's axe, he could hardly deny what was said. _And why should he?_

"Yes," said Legolas softly. "Yes, I suppose so."

"I was hoping you'd said that!" roared Gimli, sounding suddenly, startlingly, loud and ferocious. 

Legolas looked up sharply, in time to see that Gimli was no longer Gimli; he had mutated suddenly, into the great, slimy monster. It snarled at Legolas, opening its mouth. Legolas threw the axe, which grazed the monster's shoulder, then loosed his arrow, which planted itself in the monster's chest, where Legolas supposed its heart was. Though the beast roared in pain at this, it did not give any indication of falling. Quickly, Legolas reached behind him for another arrow, but the monster, with reflexes as quick as his, sprang forward and slashed the strap across Legolas' chest, which secured his quiver to his back. His arrows scattered onto the ground behind him. Legolas backed up slowly. He didn't have his knives. 

The elf turned to flee, for the first time from a single foe. The beast reached forward, snagging Legolas' shoulder with the sharp claws of its right hand. It spun him around and began its grave sucking noise.

**********

Aragorn stood in the clearing, the leaves falling from the trees into his hair, the wind hissing through the branches, the sun glittering down on him. Normally, he would've found all of this exhilarating, but right now, he felt like he might cry with frustration. At his feet lay the unconscious body of the elf of the fellowship.

Aragorn knew what had happened to him. In a minute, he would lean down and wake him, but right then, he felt that he should wait for the other stable ones to come first. Aragorn felt so nearly-unglued at the moment, that he was afraid he might do something rash, like kick Legolas, or grab his bow and snap it in two.

This new loss just tore Aragorn's hopes for the fellowship to shreds. Since this fiasco began, he'd felt sure that Legolas, of all his comrades, would be able indefinitely to keep the monster at bay. If even _he_ couldn't keep himself from being deceived, how could Aragorn continue to believe that he, or a couple of hobbits, or even Gandalf could protect themselves?

Not a moment too soon, Gandalf, Sam, and Pippin came crashing through the trees, followed by the unbalanced others.

"Oh, _no_," moaned Sam, leaning down at Legolas' side. "Him, too?"

"Yes," breathed Aragorn.

"Well, at least he looks like he put up a fight," said Frodo emphatically, taking in the elf's slashed shoulder, and the ripped front of his tunic. He leaned down at his other side and poked the uninjured shoulder. 

Legolas sat up, mumbling incoherently and rubbing his head.

"What happened?" he asked, squinting around at the others.

"I'm afraid--the monster got to you," said Gandalf in a hushed voice.

"Has it?" Legolas replied, his mouth falling open slightly. "And, what's it done?"

"Well…we don't know. Only you can tell, I suppose," said Gandalf, confusion rising in his voice.

Aragorn, who was clenching his teeth so hard that it felt like he was pushing them back up into the gums, swallowed his anger and frustration to speak.

"How do you _feel_, Legolas?" he asked. 

"Ummm…" he paused to consider. "Fine, I suppose," he stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands, transferring it to the front of his tunic. "Should we go?" he asked, setting off out of the clearing.

"Might as well," replied Aragorn quietly, looking after him.

"Wait," said Gandalf. 

Aragorn turned.

"He'll be needing _those_," the wizard pointed to the ground, at the jumbled pile of arrows there. 

Aragorn knelt down stiffly, picking them up. He stood up again, looking toward the figure of the elf, slouched along the trees. He looked at the wizard. 

"Dare I ask?" he muttered.

"It's a bit early to tell," said Gandalf, "but, it seems to have taken away his vanity."

"_Vanity_?" said Pippin, coming forward. "But, Legolas isn't _vain_."

"He doesn't have to be _very_ vain to have some vanity in him, Peregrine," explained Gandalf. "You are not a vain person, and neither am I, but we both take care of ourselves, don't we? Almost all of us take at least _some_ pride in our appearance. So does Legolas. He takes pride in his appearance, his skills, and his actions."

"Or, he used to," added Aragorn. 

**********

"Legolas, hold _still_," Merry insisted. "I'm trying to dress your wound."

"_Why_?" demanded Legolas, from his slouched position on the ground. "It's so little--it's barely there."

"Do you want it to get infected?" Merry shot back, standing at the elf's side, attempting the wrap a bandage under his arm.

"I don't care," said Legolas, pulling away again, causing it all to come unraveled.

"_Oh_," Merry burst out in frustration. "Fine," he snapped. "You want an infected wound? Be my guest. I have to go get ready anyway," he stalked off toward his perfectly prepared pack, with his folded cloak draped on top.

"Sam, Pippin, you stay here," said Aragorn. "Boromir will stay with you."

"Why must we stay?" demanded Sam, looking edgily at Frodo, who, having been forced to give back Boromir's sword, was now collecting rocks from around the campsite, filling his pockets and his hands.

"Because we don't want to lose either of you to the monster," said Aragorn, who'd calmed down slightly since his finding back at the clearing. He walked over to Sam and knelt down to look at him. "Gandalf and I can watch out for each other…and we'll both watch out for Frodo," he said softly. He looked meaningfully at Sam, then straightened up and returned to Gandalf's side, grabbing Merry, who'd been running laps around the camp to pass the time, by the collar and slinging the hobbit's well-maintained sword into his hand, then dragging him over to the wizard as well.

Aragorn then gripped the handle of his own sword in its sheath and glanced at Gandalf. Gandlaf turned to the remaining hobbits and human sitting around the campfire.

"With any luck, we'll be back before sundown," said the wizard.

He turned around and walked into the woods, quickly followed by Aragorn (sword drawn), Frodo (pebble-crammed fists at the ready), Merry (practicing sword-fighting maneuvers as he went), Gimli (beaming like a balloon vender), and Legolas (hair hanging in his face, feet dragging in the dirt).

As usual, very little sunlight crept through the branches of the many tall trees, and so, the hunters were quickly plunged into near-complete darkness.

"Stay close," murmured Aragorn.

**********

"Boromir, don't you want your sword?" asked Pippin, shifting his gaze from the discarded blade in the dirt to the man loitering by the trees.

"No," he replied automatically. "I have no need for it."

"But what will you do if the monster comes?" demanded Sam. "How will you defend yourself--defend all of us?" 

"Surely, you two brave souls can mange it yourselves. I'm no kind of warrior," Boromir responded sullenly.

"Yes, you are!" Sam snapped, looking up at him in annoyance. He was still a bit angry that he hadn't been allowed to go along with Frodo, much as he trusted Aragorn and Gandalf.

"And, we _would_ need your help, you know that!" Pippin threw in.

"I _used_ to know that," Boromir corrected him softly. "Now, I know better."

"For pity's sake, Boromir," Sam began, but was interrupted by a familiar growling.

Turning, Sam saw Pippin from behind, faced with the revolting beast. Pippin's sword was drawn, his arm trembling. It snapped at Pippin, who recoiled, thrusting his sword at the beast. The blade sunk into its collarbone a few inches, pushing Pippin into an awkward position on his toes, unable to pull his sword out.

In a second, the monster did it for him, whipping itself backwards, and sending Pippin flying back toward Sam.

The hobbit landed with strong force, which caused his sword to fly out of his hand and his reach. The monster leaped toward him.

"No!" shouted Sam, springing into action, lunging, sword drawn, for the beast.

The beast lunged back, pinning him to the ground. Sam clutched his sword, but was unable to move it, under the beast's forceful restraint.

Just then, Sam heard Pippin's voice bellowing in protest as he attacked the beast from behind. Boromir, suddenly, thankfully, regaining some confidence, appeared then at the monster's side, slicing into its leg.

The monster roared, knashed its teeth at its assailants, then, leaping off of Sam, ran back into the trees.

"After it!" cried Sam, scrambling to his feet.

**********

The three were so close to catching the beast at that point, that none of them paid any mind to staying together, and, of course, they were instantly separated. 

Sam ran, sword out in front of him, through the trees. He could hear the monster's panting close by, as well as voices, which sounded like they could have belonged to the six others in the fellowship. Perhaps they were close enough to help…

Suddenly, all noise in the wood stopped. Sam, who had just run into a small clearing, stopped also, his sword poised. He waited, two minutes, then three, then five minutes, waiting for something to happen, some sound to reach his ears. But nothing came.

Finally, Sam turned to leave the clearing, but just as he did, the monster jumped through the trees, flying toward him, looking viciously put out. No time to think, Sam threw himself flat on the ground, allowing the beast to fly right over him, and out the other side of the clearing. 

Instantly, the yelling of many voices took up on the other side of the trees. The monster roared louder than Sam had ever heard it, then all was silent again.

Sam lifted his head slowly. What had happened?

Suddenly, Gandalf, looking stunned and overwhelmed, came stumbling into the dimly lit space. He looked down at Sam with shocked sympathy. Sam shuddered.

"What's wrong?" he asked the wizard. "What's happened?"

"It's--it's _killed_ Frodo," murmured Gandalf. "The monster's _killed him_." 

~~~End of Part 5

Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since I last updated! Thank you all for your patience, and your reviews. I've loved reading them. Again, please review if you like, I'd love to know what you think. :-) 


	6. The Ringbearer's Companion

**Monstrous**

**by**** Leafy**

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

                Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Thank you for the reviews, everybody. 

**Raider314: Thank you! :o) And, what exactly is your idea for using the emotions against them? That sounds really interesting. **

**Europa: Not to spoil anything, but…YUP! :o)**

**Marissa: Thanks for the review! And don't worry, :o). Leggie will be fine. I can't say much more without spoilage, but he'll be fine, don't worry. Thanks again! :o)**

On with the story!

*              *              *

Sam's mouth dropped open in stunned disbelief.

"No," he thought. "No, no, no…"

"No," he gasped, dazed with guilt and sorrow.

"Yes, I'm afraid," said Gandalf, sitting down clumsily next to him on the ground. "It leaped through these trees at us, and just--killed him. He didn't have a chance."

"No," whispered Sam, tears running down his cheeks.

"I am sorry," said Gandalf softly, looking over at the broken-down hobbit.

"It's my fault," said Sam, meeting his gaze. "It's all my fault. I let it get away. If I hadn't thrown myself down when the monster came, if I hadn't been such a coward, I--I could have stopped it," his voice collapsed under the tears.

Sam dropped his face into his hands, weeping quietly. He couldn't think straight, he could no longer speak. He felt so guilty. _So_ guilty. So guilty that he didn't even see Gandalf open up his mouth as wide as the mouth of a bucket, didn't see him lean over to him, and didn't hear the inevitable sucking begin.

**********

"Come here!" Frodo insisted, jumping up to look through the branches for the others. "He's here, right here!"

Frodo waited a few more strained seconds for the others then, finding himself unable to wait any longer, dropped down to his friend's side and shook him awake. 

"Sam!" he said impatiently. "Sam, are you alright?"

Sam stirred then, sitting up so abruptly that he cuffed Frodo in the chin, making him fall back into a sitting position on the leaves.

"Hey!" yelped Frodo. 

"Of _course_, I'm alright," said Sam sharply. "All the others were alright, weren't they?"

"You hit me!" exclaimed Frodo, massaging his chin.

"Oh, be quiet--you hit me, too," said Sam, rubbing his own head where it had bashed Frodo.

Before Frodo could respond to this, the rest of the fellowship came clamoring into the small (and getting crowded) clearing.

"What's happened?" Aragorn asked, then hoped no one would answer.

"What do think, fool?" barked Sam, looking up at him in annoyance. "The monster got me, of course!"

He looked around at the others then.

"I hope you're happy," he said to them. "Thanks to you, _I_ could be permanently damaged now!"

"And, what did _we_ do?" Frodo snapped, standing up.

"Well, if you'd all been keeping an eye on the monster--or me--" he glared at Boromir and Pippin next to each other, "I might still be _me_!" 

"I'll never be able to forgive myself," muttered Boromir.

"Don't bother, Boromir," said Frodo, looking away from Sam at him. "It's his own stupid fault that he got caught."

"Why, you--" growled Sam, standing up and brandishing his sword. "Come here and say that!"

"Fine!" said Frodo, and made a run for Sam, but was grabbed up from the ground by Gandalf. Aragorn followed suit, snatching up Sam and prying his sword from his grip, letting it fall to the ground.

"That's it, just keep collecting swords," Sam snarled up at him.

"Enough!" boomed Gandalf. "Samwise, did you see in what direction the beast went?"

Sam paused for a moment to think, then looked smugly at the wizard.

"Yessssss," he said slowly, then looked back up at Aragorn. "Let me go, and I'll show you."

"Just point the way," Aragorn growled.

Sam paused again.

"Alright," he said, "I didn't see it, but let go of me anyway."

Aragorn promptly obeyed, dropping him like a hot coal.

"Now me," demanded Frodo, looking up at the wizard.

"They'll fight," Aragorn warned him.

"I know," Gandalf responded.

"_I_ won't, _I_ promise," said Sam.

"You will," snapped Aragorn. "You're lying."

"Why don't we just knock one of them out?" suggested Legolas, leaning against a tree.

"How about we just let them do whatever they want?" suggested Gimli mildly. "Or, we could do Legolas' suggestion."

Once again, Aragorn gritted his teeth, steering Sam over to Boromir and Pippin. 

"Just keep him under control," he said to the two, "please."

**********

Aragorn slumped down before the fire and put his head in his hands. He and the rest of the fellowship had spent all day traipsing through the forest, looking for the beast (and looking for Merry, who kept dashing off on his own, insistent that he could vanquish the monster himself), and they hadn't seen a single snapped twig or track in the dirt to lead them on.

Legolas hadn't been much help, complaining that he was tired of walking, and that his tracking abilities were so inferior to everyone else's, that they would be of no use in this situation. He and Boromir seemed to be getting along much better since the monster had claimed the elf. 

Gandalf seemed like the only voice of near-reason left, besides Aragorn himself. Pippin had been too busy keeping track of Sam, who, according to the wizard, had lost all traces of his guilt to the monster. It was no easy task for Pippin to monitor Sam, as Boromir had given up almost instantly, saying Pippin was much more able for the job than he. And it didn't help matters any that Sam, without his guilt, was trying everything he could think of to get away from Pippin.

"Let go of my arm," Sam had whined at one point. "You're giving me a bruise. Leave me be, don't listen to Aragorn! You can't trust what he says. Come on, let me go, Pip. What kind of friend are you?"

Pippin had had a terribly rough day, Aragorn knew. So, after it had gotten too dark to see at all in the woods, and a quick camp had been set up for the night, mostly courtesy of Merry, who also insisted on standing guard first), Aragorn suggested that Pippin retire early, saying that he would take over the hobbit's turn to keep watch.

Aragorn now sat on a log, a few feet from Pippin's cloak on the ground, where the young hobbit lay, snoring softly. Merry was still guarding the actual camp (he still insisted), but Aragorn was too restless and concerned about the well-being of the remaining undamaged hobbit and wizard to sleep, and just felt better, being able to keep an eye on Pippin. He still had faith that Gandalf could take care of himself.

Aragorn was pulled out of his reverie just then by a sudden violent whipping and rustling noise in the bushes near Pippin's head. He stood up, drawing his sword and raising it to slash the shrub, but as he did, saw a shadowy little thing dart out of it and back into the woods. It was the monster. Without a moment's hesitation, Aragorn took off after it. It _would not_ escape again…

He ran, far and fast, the little shadowy beast flitting in and out between the trees, just out of his reach. Finally, he caught up, cornering it before a crowded bunch of trees. Aragorn raised his sword once more to stab it, but as he brought the sword down, the creature vanished, seemingly into thin air.

Aragorn stood, frozen, for a moment. It had escaped again. How could it have gotten away so fast?

And then he remembered. Gandalf had observed in their many near run-ins with the beast that it could move incredibly fast, faster even than an elf.

Aragorn turned around. So, it had run away. But where was it now? Why would it have led Aragorn all the way out here for no reason--

Aragorn's back stiffened suddenly, in wild realization. He took off through the trees, running back toward the camp as fast as he could.

Pippin…

~End of Part 6 


	7. Hope Dies

**Monstrous**

**by**** Leafy**

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

                Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Thank you for the great reviews, everybody. 

**Galadriel**** Greenleaf: Heh, thanks a lot. I'm glad you're liking the story. :o)**

**Tiggivon****: Wow, thanks a lot about the Legolas thing. That's very nice of you to say. :o) And, Boromir like Rimmer, huh? I can see that. :o) I'm glad you like the new Frodo/Sam dynamic. I wasn't sure how that was going to go over. Glad you like it, and thanks for the reviews! :o)**

**Europa****: Yeah, Pip's cool! :o) Unfortunately, we have at least three more chapters to go, so, not yet.  Thanks for the review! :o)**

**Marissa: Thanks for the review. Yeah, Aragorn made a mistake, huh? Oh! And, cliffhangers may be evil, but they sure are fun, huh? :o) Glad you think it's getting funny, and thanks for the review! :o) **

**Raider314: That sounds really cool! I will have to consider that. Yep, another one down. Can't say much more without spoiling this part, though. :o) Anyway, thanks for the review, and I'm glad you like the story! :o)**

On with the show! :o)

*              *              *

Pippin opened his eyes slowly, drowsily. He was still tired. What had woken him up?

"Of course," he thought, the familiar gurgle reaching his ears once more. His stomach. He was starving. By the time they'd decided to call off the search, for the night, Sam had been so put out by the treatment he'd received during the day, he'd taken all of the food Bill had been carrying and threw it into the fast-moving river just below the campsite, in a fit of anger. Pippin could tell that it had taken all of Aragorn's restraint not to let Frodo tear him limb from limb, as the hobbit seemed quite ready to do by then.

The others had had bits of food stashed in their packs, and Merry had gone off in search of more to eat (with no success, after he was told that no one except Bill would be willing to eat grass), so that had eaten supper, just a very paltry one.

Pippin's stomach rumbled again, and he sat up, looking around for his own pack. They had all pooled the remaining food in Aragorn's pack, but perhaps he'd missed something in his own. Finding the ragged knapsack, Pippin pulled it close to himself, and began digging around inside. Very quickly, it became obvious that there was nothing edible left there. Just as he was about to give up and try to go back to sleep, Pippin's eyes fell on a very strange sight; Aragorn's pack, laying open and unattended on the ground. And if it wasn't odd enough that he'd been careless enough to leave it there like that, the visible contents was so bizarre that Pippin had to rub his eyes hard, to make sure he wasn't just tired and hallucinating. 

Just inside the bag, sticking out a bit, was an unmistakable seed-cake. A big, unmistakable seed-cake. 

Pushing his own pack aside, Pippin crawled over to it cautiously and pulled it out. On closer examination, Pippin couldn't help but notice that it looked a lot like one of the cakes Sam had destroyed. Could it be that Aragorn had rescued one of them from the river?

Why hadn't the ranger said anything about this? Why hadn't they eaten this, instead of the bits of bread and such that they'd settled for? Was Aragorn trying to hoard this cake?

Pippin's stomach interrupted again, protesting loudly the lack of food.

"Well," thought Pippin. "I'll show _him_. I'll show that Strider that nothing of this nature escapes _my_ notice." 

Pippin put the cake down and reached into his own pack for his knife. On retrieving it, he turned back to the lump of nourishment on his cloak and proceeded to cut a piece away from the edge for himself. He put it in his mouth and sunk his teeth into it.

Instantly, Pippin was alarmed by the strange taste of it. It didn't taste like any seed-cake he'd ever eaten. It tasted more like what he imagined raw animal flesh to taste like. Appalled, he spat it out onto the ground.

Pippin looked down at it closely, not daring to touch it, for it no longer even reassembled a seed-cake, half-chewed or otherwise. It was all black and mangled, stringy, and seemed to be saturated with blood. Pippin ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth. It couldn't be his own…

And then, there was his knife. On looking down at it, Pippin saw that it, too, was bloodied, where he'd sliced into the no-longer-appetizing snack. 

This all seemed very familiar, like something Gandalf had mentioned earlier. Something to do with Frodo, and a pail--and the monster!

Whirling around, Pippin searched for the found-out cake, but found instead a large, extremely cross-looking beast. Dropping his little knife, Pippin stood up and drew out his sword. He wasn't going down without a fight.

The monster, noting the blade, began making its way slowly toward the hobbit. The monster snarled and sprang for him, but Pippin made use of his sword, stabbing toward its growing-ever-closer face. He missed, almost stabbing the side the monster's neck, which it seemed a bit more protective of, drawing back. Had it been injured there before?

Before Pippin could find out, the monster lunged forward again, more quickly, batting Pippin's sword out of his hand and opening its mouth. 

**********

"Get away!" Aragorn bellowed, crashing through the underbrush and spotting the beast, just before Pippin's limp body.

He swung his sword at the monster, who retaliated by charging back into the trees and the dark night.

Aragorn didn't bother to follow this time. He dropped down beside the hobbit, shaking his shoulder a bit frantically. The drawn out sword and the knife that lay beside him unsettled Aragorn, and he prayed that blood on the latter belonged to the monster, not Pippin. 

Pippin stirred then, looking drowsily at Aragorn. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, much as he had moments ago, when he first saw the seed-cake. 

"What's going on, then?" he asked.

"The monster got to you," Aragorn responded, almost automatically now. "Can you tell what it's done?"

Pippin blinked at Aragorn, the shifted his eyes to the trees, thinking. 

"Nope, I can't. Sorry. Perhaps it's done nothing," he added hopefully.

"I don't think so," said a voice. Aragorn turned and saw Gandalf step through the trees.

The wizard jabbed at the ground with his staff, pointing to a bloody, slimy little black blob on the ground next to Pippin.

Pippin looked down at it, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

"What _is_ that?" he asked. "That's _revolting_." 

"What is?" asked Merry, stepping into the campsite. He had his sword out, the tip of it glinting red. "Does something need cleaning?"

"What happened?" asked Aragorn, not bothering to answer his question.

"Oh, just a bit of a tustle with the monster," said Merry nonchalantly. "It was the oddest thing. First, I chased it, practically to the edge of the woods, then I lost it, and didn't find it again until I came back here, just now. Of course, I've lost it again. It's awfully fast."

"Of course," thought Aragorn. It wasn't a stupid monster, after all. It must have lured everyone who might've been a threat out of the camp, so it would have a fair shot at Pippin.

By then, the rest of the fellowship came back to the camp through the trees, telling stories similar to Merry's. Aragorn figured that it must have been back and forth for at least an hour, luring everyone in various ways farther and farther away from the campsite. 

"_I_ thought I heard you calling me," said Boromir to Aragorn. "And I saw you--or at least, I thought I did--going through the trees. The monster must have pretended to be you."

"Even better!" said Frodo. "It just makes it that much more of a challenge."

Pippin smirked then, and his stomach let out an admirable howl.

"Goodness!" said Merry, looking at his cousin. "You must be _hungry_, Pip."

"No," Pippin answered quickly, no need to pause for thought this time. "Full as a tick."

Gandalf's shoulders dropped slightly, and he pulled Aragorn aside.

"There you are," he said softly, so as not to let Pippin overhear. "Gluttony."

Aragorn opened his mouth in disbelief, looking back over at Pippin.

"Ironic that it should happen to him," he said.

**********

Aragorn lay down slowly on his own cloak, in a small clearing away from the others. Though he hadn't been ready for sleep at all that night, after losing Pippin, he felt as drained as he had ever been. 

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, in an attempt to calm himself.

However, it wasn't long before he was disturbed by another alarming sound, a dull thud, like the sound of a log being dropped.

Instantly, he got up and headed toward the sound, though he was positive that he didn't want to know what had caused it.

Sure enough, Aragorn's worst fears were confirmed in the first clearing he hit. 

Gandalf was laid out on the ground, his staff neatly beside him. He looked as Aragorn imagined he looked when he slept, if he, in fact, ever slept. 

Not at all prepared to deal with what he expected to happen next, Aragorn bent down and grasped Gandalf's shoulder, but couldn't bring himself to shake it, even a little.

He didn't have to. Within a few seconds, Gandalf was awake, sitting up and blinking dully at Aragorn. 

"Hello," said the wizard, his voice squeaking a bit.

"The monster?" Aragorn asked him nauseously.

"Yes, afraid so," said the wizard, who didn't seem afraid at all. 

"Can you tell what it's done?" asked Aragorn, again positive that he didn't want to know. 

"Well--I really can't be sure, but--it seems to have…sucked out my intelligence," said Gandalf, leaning back a bit. "Well, it looks like you're the only normal one left," he continued. "There's no hope."

"But, wait--I don't understand," said Aragorn, ignoring the wizard's last remark. "You told us that the monster only feeds on negative emotions and feelings; intelligence isn't a feeling."

"No, you're right, it's not. S'pose I was wrong about all of that," said Gandalf carelessly, standing up and sighing. "Still, as I said, there's no hope."

"How can you _say_ that--and, don't you need your staff?" Aragorn asked a touch desperately, picking it up and thrusting it at him. 

"Ah, yes, of course," said the wizard docilely, accepting the staff. "And, really, it's simple, Aragorn. Without my oh-so-useful, sage wisdom and advice, we're done for. You'll be no help. You've been near-blinded by despair and frustration since the monster claimed Legolas. Go on, admit it."

"No, no--of course I haven't!" Aragorn faltered, furrowing his brow.

"Oh yes, you have," chuckled Gandalf. "And, why not? Frodo and Sam are indescribably unruly and unhelpful, Boromir couldn't be more useless or depressing if he _tried_, Merry refuses to sleep or even rest a moment, Pippin to eat, I just saw Legolas pull something out of his nose and wipe it in his hair, and I think it's safe to say that _everyone_ wants to kill Gimli at this point. And now, there's me--duller than Boromir's disused sword. _Everything_ to be miserable about, _nothing_ to be glad for," he finished with relish.

Aragorn, whose contained despondency was slowly preparing for a reappearance, looked down at the ground, at the imprint the wizard had left on the leaves. 

Gandalf was right. He _had_ nothing to be glad for, nothing to be hopeful for. He had nothing at all. No help, no hope…he didn't even know who had the ring at this point.

Aragorn dug the tip of his boot into the dirt. 

"Why does everything have to turn out so _wrongly_?" he thought despairingly. 

Not looking up, Aragorn spoke again to Gandalf.

"You don't _seem_ so stupid," he muttered innocuously.

"That's because I'm _not_," replied Gandalf, his voice now a simpering tone.

Aragorn looked up, confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked, but his words were lost in the loud suction noise that followed.

**********

"Aragorn!" Gandalf called, making his way hastily through the branches. "Aragorn! It's not safe for any of us to be alone--oof!"

The wizard tripped over a particularly-unnecessary tree root, landing on his knees in a clearing. He pushed his hair back, looking before him. What he saw took his breath away, much more than the fall had.

Gandalf saw Aragorn, passed out on the ground, but that wasn't the shocking thing. It was the familiar figure standing over him, which straightened up and turned as Gandalf stumbled into the clearing.

The face that looked into Gandalf's was his own. It looked at him for a second, quite startled, then disappeared again, vanishing without a trace.

Knowing that it was no use trying to follow the monster at the moment, Gandalf recovered his feet, stepped over to Aragorn, then took to his knees again, kneeling at the ranger's side.

"Aragorn," he said, slowly and clearly. "Wake up. We're all in great danger."

~~~End of Part 7


	8. Chaos

**Monstrous**

**by**** Leafy**

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

                Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Thank you for the reviews, everybody. 

**Aranndil****: Thanks very much! I'm glad you like it! :o)**

**Europa****: Yeah, two in one chapter. We're coming to the end soon, so I have to move things along a bit. And yes, I'll be thinking of something. ;o) Thank you!**

**Raider314: Heh, thanks ::blushing:: And yeah, Aragorn won't be able to think of something, I'm afraid. Now, you see what I meant when I couldn't tell you more because of spoilers. :o) Thanks for the review!**

**Marissa: Intuition, I guess. :o) Yeah, Gandalf's their only hope, now. What Aragorn lost will be made clear in this chapter. (or, Europa named it in her review of Chap. 7 :o)) And, don't worry! They'll think of something for the monster! :o) Thanks!**

On with the story!    

*              *              *

"Any more soup?" Legolas asked, looking from his sitting position on the ground, over at Merry, who was rinsing out the bowls of the finished diners in a bucket of water he'd retrieved.

"Yes, Legolas," said Merry, setting down the empty bowls and scuttling over to the fire.

"Here you are," he said, handing the replenished bowl to Legolas. As the elf took it, Merry turned his attention to his cousin, on the other side of the campfire. 

"Pippin," he said, looking at him worriedly, "you haven't touched your soup, I couldn't help but notice. Can't I fix you something else?"

"Not hungry," Pippin responded automatically, not even glancing at the brimming bowl in his lap.

"I'll finish it," offered Sam, who had finished his bowlful with stunning rapidity. Pippin thrust his bowl at Sam, who took it before Merry could say a word.

"Now, what's that for?" barked Sam, noticing the look of disdain Merry now wore. "This is _thin_ soup." 

"It wouldn't be so thin if you hadn't thrown all of our food in the river," Frodo snapped, tossing his empty bowl aside.

"_I_ wouldn't have thrown out the food if _you_ hadn't put me in such a foul disposition," Sam retorted, throwing his own bowl aside and pouring soup onto Legolas, who did not look up.

"Oh, it's all _my_ fault now, is it?" demanded Frodo, again reaching for the sword that was no longer in its sheath. 

"That's right!" said Sam.

Frodo seemed unable to find a suitable verbal response to this, and, before anyone could stop him, charged for Sam again. Sam stepped out of his way, sending Frodo crashing into the side of the soup pot, sending the precious contents spilling into the fire, extinguishing the flames and destroying what was left of the meager meal. 

Sam burst out laughing as Frodo stood up, dabbing soup out of his eyes. 

"Think it's funny, do you?" growled Frodo.

"Now look what you you've done," Sam taunted back.

"It's _your fault_," Frodo cried, looking ready to lunge again.

"Stop!" Gandalf bellowed. The two hobbits looked over at him. "Frodo," the wizard continued wearily. "Sit down…you too, Samwise."

They sulkily complied, sitting down at opposing ends of the campfire.

There was a brief pause, then Gimli spoke.

"You know, Gandalf," he said softly, "I hope you don't think I'm being forward, but surely you agree that we'd all be much better off, getting all of this hostility and tension out of the air, with a nice, open, comradely meeting?"

"That sounds lovely," Aragorn interjected, still wearing the same eerie smile he'd woken up with back at the clearing. "We could do that right after supper, couldn't we? Couldn't we, Gandalf?"

"Supper seems pretty well over to me," said Sam looking pointedly over the extinguished campfire at Frodo, who glared venomously back.

"There's still the washing up to do," said Merry hurriedly, gathering the remaining empty bowls and pot, and stumbling quickly over to the bucket of washing water. "But we could start now. I mean to say, we can all multitask, can't we?" he looked around briefly, then plunged the dirty pile in his arms into the bucket.

"Maybe _you_ can," Legolas mumbled drowsily, folding his arms over his chest and wincing slightly, as he hadn't allowed Merry near his arm wound again, and it still ached.

"Never mind," said Aragorn, getting to his feet. "Merry, I'll help you with the--Gandalf, where are you going?" he looked over at the wizard, puzzled.

"For a walk," Gandalf croaked, not turning around. "Don't worry, I'll be back in time for the _meeting_."

**********

"_Four_ days," Gandalf thought bitterly, as he strode through the trees. 

Four horrible, harrowing, nearly intolerable days, he'd had to put up with all eight of his comrades' insanity. It felt like four ages.

Frodo and Sam were now constantly at each other's throats, Gimli and his new best friend, sadness-free Aragorn seemed to have appointed themselves morale officers of the fellowship, suggesting open meetings and group hugs to solve all problems, Boromir did nothing anymore but sit and mope, Pippin hadn't eaten a bite of food in the four days he'd been claimed by the monster, just watching Merry in action made Gandalf tired, and Legolas had reached a stage of filth that Gandalf would have found it hard to believe an elf could achieve, had he not seen it for himself.

Gandalf had reached the edge of the river, the very river that had swallowed up their food some miles back, just a few days ago. He sat down on a boulder at the water's edge.

Gandalf relaxed his posture, and his hands went up to his face, rubbing his tired eyes. It wasn't just the state of the fellowship that was getting to Gandalf. There was something else. It was small, round, shiny, and tucked away inside his robes, just over his heart.

Almost a week ago, Frodo had been sapped by the monster, and almost a week ago, Gandalf had had to confiscate the ring.

The wizard heaved a sigh. He did not like having the ring in his possession, and had done much before now to keep it out of his possession. It made him nervous, and he was afraid of what he might be tempted to do or think, in his own emotionally weakened state.

Still, perhaps the only fortunate about the situation with the monster was that it mostly kept Gandalf's mind off of the ring. However, just to be safe, Gandalf generally avoided solitary moments such as this. It was only when he felt like he was going crazy, like he did now, that he gave in to the temptation to take a walk by himself.

Gandalf inhaled slowly, taking his fingertips from his eyelids. He looked around at the dark landscape.

It had been days since they'd seen the monster at all. The last appearance it had made was on the night that it had claimed Aragorn, when Gandalf saw it as himself, and it ran off into the woods. Gandalf had hoped that the monster might come back after him, giving them all a chance to annihilate it, but it seemed to be finished with them, at least for now. Gandalf now thought that, perhaps, his own mind operated on a plane that was uninteresting to the beast.

And, even if it came back now, how could they really expect to vanquish it? Even if, by some miracle, Gandalf managed to get everyone to cooperate in the effort, the objective seemed insurmountable. Almost every time anyone of the fellowship encountered the beast, they dealt it some wound that would send any previously-discovered monster reeling, not running, as this beast did.

The thought had crossed Gandalf's mind that the beast had some sort of regenerative abilities, and if that was true, all was lost.

Another problem was that Gandalf had never seen this monster before, and knew nothing of it that its legend and firsthand experience did not tell. He did not know of any spells that might be useful against the beast, either. Any time it attacked, the wizard's mind just went blank.

Just then, some tremendous shouting took up back at the camp. Gandalf stood up wearily, knowing that it almost certainly wasn't the monster, but that he must go back.

**********

Coming into the clearing, Gandalf's eyes met with an horrific sight.

Sam and Frodo were standing face to face, with only the campfire between them. They were engaged in a heated argument, or a fight, more accurately. Merry was dancing round them like some kind of maternal referee, his coaxing words lost in the babble of the two.

Gimli and Aragorn stood just beyond the fray, Aragorn looking excited, Gimli downright frightened.

"It's _your_ fault we're even in this mess!" Sam bellowed. "If you hadn't let yourself be caught by that wretched monster, we wouldn't have had to go looking for it to begin with!"

"I suppose I should've just run off like a _coward_, then?" Frodo demanded fiercely. "I suppose we all should have done that?"

"_That_ would be preferable to _this_," Sam countered. "And even if we captured it, you wouldn't be able to so much as nic that beast, anyway!"

"I could grind it to a powder, if given the opportunity!" Frodo shouted indignantly.

"Nonsense!" Sam responded coldly. "Boromir thinks he's useless as a warrior, but really, the only useless one around here is _you_."

"Please don't include me in this," said Boromir quietly from the edge of the campsite.

Before Frodo could respond to either of these statements, though, Merry was in control. With surprising strength and effectiveness, he kicked the fire out with a single blow from his foot. He then stood on the smoldering ashes between Frodo and Sam stretching his arms out, in an effort to keep the hobbits separated. 

"Listen," Merry announced. "I want both of you to stop all of this nonsense, this instant! You're upsetting Gandalf, and destroying all semblance of morale around here."

After a bit more badgering from Merry, the troublesome duo agreed to leave each other alone, at least until one of them provoked the next fight.

Sam was so caught up in his own thoughts as he walked away from the spot where Merry was now relighting the campfire, that he almost walked into Gandalf, still standing at the edge of the campsite.

"Erm, hello, M-mister Gandalf," he said nervously.

"Hello, Samwise," Gandalf murmured, looking over Sam's head at the rest of the camp, where the others were, kindling, comforting, brooding, snoring, sitting, singing, and scheming.

"Gimli," Gandalf called softly. 

"Yes?" the dwarf looked up, pausing in mid-verse. 

"I think it's time for that open meeting."

"Terrific," said Gimli, clamping his hands together in enthusiasm. "Come here, everyone. Frodo, why don't you leave those rocks over there? Oh come, Boromir, it will do you good. Somebody, wake up Legolas."

~~End of Part 8 


	9. An Open Meeting

**Monstrous**

**by**** Leafy**

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

                Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Thank you for the kind reviews, everybody.

**Estelcontar****: Thank you! I'm so glad you like the story, and I'm glad you think it's funny. And, it's so cool that you guessed just what I'd have the monster take from each of the fellowship! :o) Thanks for the review!**

**Tiggivon****: Aww, thanks. :o) ::big grin:: You're so kind. I'm happy you're liking the new developments, and as for Rimmer, well—doesn't he have some revision time tables to correlate, or something, instead of tampering with your computer? :o) Thanks for the reviews!  **

**Europa****: Thanks for the review! Glad you're enjoying it. And, as for the monster, well, we'll see. ;o) Thanks again!:o)**

**Raider314: Hehe, behold the majorly dysfunctional fellowship.  Yep, they've still got Gandalf to help them, so, despite Chap. 7's title, hope's not dead yet. :o) Thanks for the review!**

*              *              *

It had taken roughly half an hour to corral everyone into sitting down for the meeting, but they were all there now--more or less.

Sam had flatly refused to sit next to Frodo, saying it would result in bloodshed (this, of course, Gandalf took for granted). Sam also refused to sit next to Legolas (too malodorous), Boromir (too depressing), Gimli or Aragorn (both too perky), and finally settled himself next to Pippin, who was beginning to look rather haggard. Sam had found himself most able to tolerate Pippin, as he was relatively quiet and clean, and wholeheartedly gave Sam any food he came across, since he was changed.

Frodo ended up having to sit between Aragorn and Gimli, who tried cheerfully to distract him from the staring contest he had initiated across the fire, with Sam.

Boromir, with enough deep sighing to make any normal man hyperventilate, finally trudged over to the growing circle on his own, sitting down on the ground, just apart from the rest of the group. After he did this, no matter what anyone said, he would move no closer.

Legolas, who did not take kindly to being woken so suddenly by Merry, stood up and stumbled into the circle, then sat down on a log. His shoulders were slightly hunched now, as he had nodded off again, waiting for the meeting to begin.

Merry was the hardest one to get sitting down. Gandalf wasn't even sure if he even _had_ sat down, since the monster claimed him. The hobbit kept bustling about, insisting that he was listening, he just had "things to do". In the end, in an unheard-of moment of cooperation, Frodo and Sam seized him by the arms and steered him onto a log next to Gandalf, before returning annoyedly to their our seats.

When everyone was finally seated, Gandalf cleared his throat (and his mind, as best he could), and began to speak.

"I believe it would be wise for us now to acknowledge the likely prospect that we won't find the beast again in this forest, and it may be a very long time before you are all returned to normal. Years, perhaps."

"For the last time, I _am_ normal," Frodo blurted.

"Not that I'm disagreeing with you, Gandalf, but I don't see anything wrong with our present situation," Gimli chanced timidly.

"Neither do I," Aragorn chimed in.

"I think it's _better_ this way," Boromir remarked glumly from the ground.

"And, you know I have no opinion whatsoever," Legolas mumbled, sitted up a little. 

Gandalf heaved a quiet sigh, in place of the cry of outrage he would have preferred to utter.

"All I mean is, at present, our need to fulfill a certain _quest_ may outweigh our need to find this monster," he said.

"Why bother?" Frodo muttered, obviously intending everyone to hear. "You won't let _me_ carry it again, will you?"

"It doesn't matter _who_ destroys the ring, just as long as the ring is _destroyed_," Gandalf responded.

"Can't we just have one more go at finding the monster, before we leave?" Merry pleaded, bouncing his right knee up and down maddenly as he spoke.

"I'm afraid there would be no point, Meriadoc," said Gandalf. "The monster is swifter and nimbler than an elf, it can change forms to be anything it pleases, and it seems largely unaffected by material wounds. Finding and defeating it in these woods now whould be the closest thing to impossible that any of us would be likely to encounter."

"Trust an old simpleton like you to give up, the moment it's a challenge," said Sam shiftlessly from his seat.

"Don't talk to Gandalf that way!" snapped Frodo, leaping to his feet.

"Oh? And what are you going to do about it? _Nearly_ beat me up again?" Sam jeered.

"Now, now," said Gimli nervously, "can't we all--"

"If your next words are 'just get along', I'll throttle you," Frodo warned him.

"Don't talk to Gimli that way!" Sam mimicked Frodo, who responded by snatching up a log from the pile next to the fire and running at him.

He was instantly intercepted by Merry, who left his seat so abruptly that even Gandalf hadn't seen him do it. 

"What did I tell you both?" Merry bellowed, shoving the two of them apart and dragging a struggling Frodo back to his seat, before sitting down lightly next to Gandalf, again.

"I'm _sorry_," said Gimli sorrowfully. He seemed to think that he had provoked this outburst. "I don't mean to make trouble, but perhaps Gandalf's point is a valid one. Even if we all truly _want_ to destroy the monster, if it is indestructible, then there seems little reason to stay here."

"It can't be indestructible," Pippin said, so quietly that he almost wasn't heard.

"What was that, Peregrine?" Gandalf asked, sharply, curiously.

"It can't be indestructible," Pippin continued, staring wearily into the fire. "It didn't seem to want me near its neck, when it attacked me last."

"How do you know?" asked Frodo. "None of the rest of us remember being attacked."

"I didn't remember it _instantly_," Pippin replied, feebly defensive. "Just yesterday."

"_Yesterday_?" Gandalf exclaimed. "Why didn't you speak of it then?" 

There was brief pause.

"Didn't seem to be important," said Pippin simply.

But Gandalf only half-heard this. He was now lost in thought. He remembered once, very long ago, reading about a certain type of beast that could be created by magic, which was invincible to all forms of offense, in all but one spot, which varied from beast to beast. This beast must be one of those magical creatures, and its neck, its vulnerable point. Gandalf looked back up at the others. 

"This monster can be destroyed," he said. "Quite easily. We have only to find it again." 

~~End of Part 9 

Author's Note: Sorry this part is so short! We're two chapters from the end, though, so the next part will be longer. Thanks for your patience, and please review, if you want. :o) 


	10. The Battle

**Monstrous**

**by**** Leafy**

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

                                Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Thank you for the great reviews, everybody. 

**Tookish****: Thanks for the great review! :o) I'm glad you like the story. :o) And, oh, something big is in store for Frodo. :o) Thanks again.**

**Galadriel Greenleaf alias Eve Eastborne: Hehe, thanks for the review, and the heads-up on your new name.**** :o)**

**Tiggivon****: Well, this may be the second to last chapter, but I'm in the process of writing a sequel now, so don't despair. :o) Thanks for the fabulous review, and tell Rimmer not to forget the backpacks. :o)**

**Griffin**** Moon: Thanks! I'm happy you like this fic. Yep, weirdness abounds…:o) Thanks for the review.**

**Europa****: I totally agree. :o) Thanks! **

**Raider314: Thank you for the wonderful review, and the compliment. :o) That's very kind of you. Thanks again!**

**Anonymous: Thanks! I'm really glad you like it! :o)**

**Estelcontar****: Wow, thanks. Very nice of you to say.  I'm glad you're liking this story. :o)**

**Marissa: Oh, it made sense. :o) I know just what you mean. Don't worry, I hate nagging questions, too, so hopefully they will all be answered, for this story, before it's finished. :o) Thanks again!  **

*              *              *

"How are we supposed to find this beast, if it's not interested in you?" Sam demanded. "it seems fairly finished with the rest of us."

"We should seek it out then!" said Frodo.

"Partially correct, Frodo," responded Gandalf, coming out of abstract consideration. "While I do not think there would be much purpose to actively seeking the monster, now. However, perhaps we can lure it back with the enticement of more--nourishment."

"'Nourishment?'" Sam interrupted him. "You mean, use one of _us_ as bait?"

"We will let no harm come to you, Samwise," assured Gandalf.

"It's a ridiculous--" Sam began with a scoff.

"I think it sounds _charming_," Aragorn broke in. "Great fun."

"I agree," said Gimli, who seemed more to simply want to avoid another argument, than anything else.

"Anything, so long as it's a decisive course of action, suits me," Merry put in.

Sam sat up, looking about at the others, his mouth open in protest. Finally, seeing that even his bold new disposition would not help him here, the hobbit leaned back, putting his head in his hands and sighing in annoyance.

"Fine," he said. "Just, don't use me."

**********

"The idea is to get him as angry as possible," Gandalf explained to Sam, as he looked through the branches at Frodo, standing alone in the large clearing in front of them. He'd been told that he and Sam were to watch for the monster as the others prepared. This lie had merely been told so as not to spoil the effect the wizard hoped the plan would have. "Hopefully then, the heightened state of his emotions will lure the beast back here--"

"And then, you'll finish it off, I know," Sam interrupted, his hand going to the hilt of the sword that he had been given back, which he had placed back in its sheath, at least for the time being. "Alright, here I go," he said, stepping between the tree trunks. 

Gandalf straightened up apprehensively, backing up to stand before the rest of the fellowship. This was quite a gamble. The thought had occurred to Gandalf that drawing more emotions from the already-damaged ones might be more than they could stand, that it mgith kill them. There was also the possibility that more nourishment for the monster would make it strong enough to do this, itself. So, the wizard knew, it was crucial for all of their sakes that the minute the monster appeared, they must strike. It was for this reason alone that he had decided that Sam and Frodo should have their weapons back, now, before their emotional situation was rectified.

Gandalf looked behind him. With some difficulty, but no exceptions, he had managed to get Aragorn, Boromir, Merry, Pippin, Legolas, and even Gimli to bear their arms in preparation for the attack. Aragorn had been no trouble, he seemed overjoyed at the prospect of doing battle with the monster. Pippin, Boromir, and Legolas had become so sluggish and submissive that they required no persuasion, just somebody to thrust the weapons into their hands. Gimli obviously had only accepted his axe because he hadn't wanted to provoke or offend anyone, and Merry had been the one distributing the weapons, so he'd needed absolutely no talking into the matter.

A small exclamation of anger sounded from the clearing, and Gandalf looked sharply back. Frodo was now speaking quickly and sharply to Sam, who had wisely moved out of his trajectory. Frodo's eyes burned with fury at Sam as he spoke, but the conflict seemed strictly verbal, as Gandalf had commanded Sam to keep it, so there was no need for any of them to intervene.

The seven in the trees continued to stand and observe from their hiding place.

"I don't think it's enough," Merry said finally, after about five more minutes of waiting. 

"It will be," said Gandalf softly. "Wait."

Just then, there was the sound of leaves rustling, and a small thud just behind the wizard. Gandalf turned back as Legolas and Boromir moved out of the way to see what had happened.

Pippin, in his weakened and malnourished condition, had lost his balance and tipped backwards onto the ground. He had thrust his right hand, which now bore his weapon, out in a feeble attempt to balance, but had only succeeded in making a small scrape down the side of the trunk, with the sword he had now lost his grip on. He sat up, looking about dazedly.

"Pippin!" Merry rushed to his cousin's side, pulling him up. He picked up the sword off the ground, glancing at the wounded tree as he handed the weapon back to Pippin.

Suddenly, Merry knelt down at the base of the tree. He ran his finger along the downward scrape on it, then drew his hand back, bringing it close to his eyes in keen observation.

"Meriadoc, what--?" Gandalf asked, quite confused, but then he saw it, as Merry turned his head to look forebodingly at him; the tip of the hobbit's finger was red with blood.

"Gandalf--?" he asked softly.

Gandalf tore his eyes from the halfling's hand, looking at the gigantic, sturdy tree Merry knelt before. The wizard traced its uppermost, longest branches with his eyes, trying to see where they led. The longest of them bent right down into the clearing, over Sam's and Frodo's heads.

"_Move!_" Gandalf bellowed at them, turning sharply.

The hobbits looked up at the others from their verbal sparring, and the branch swooped suddenly down, like an eagle, whisking them off the ground and back with it, high into the air.

"_No!_" cried Merry, leaping to his feet and trying to scramble up the tree, but the bark had grown suddenly smooth and slippery, making an ascent impossible. Frantically, he drew his sword and began stabbing into the trunk repeatedly. Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, and Pippin joined in the attack, as Legolas, looked up, blinking fuzzily at the sun as he fired arrow after arrow into the limbs that held Sam and Frodo.

Up in the tree, Sam and Frodo were fighting as best they could against their antagonist, since it had wrapped its tightening limbs around them, as if it meant to crush them to death. 

Frodo struggled and thrashed, finally managing to wrench his arm out from the entanglement. 

"_Pippin spoke of its neck_", he remembered, with difficulty. True, finding the neck of a tree wasn't likely to happen, but Frodo thought that an attack closer to the trunk would be more effective. He sliced savagely into the curving limbs that restrained him, cutting through them like ropes. He looked about for Sam as he freed himself, spotting him about twenty feet away, trying fearfully to fight off snake-like branches, with his sword. All thoughts of their petty bickering over the last several days left Frodo.

"Hang on, Sam!" he called out, moving swiftly along the branch on which he stood, and promptly falling off the unexpectedly-slippery surface.

Yelping in surprise, Frodo snatched at the limb as he began to roll off, joining his hands around it, in order to keep himself from losing his grip on the slick bark.

Unsteadily, Frodo slowly released his sword hand from the branch, reaching out in an attempt to impale the trunk, but he was too far away. Desperately, the hobbit drew his arm back and hurled his sword at the tree, like a javelin. It struck like an arrow, going in deep with the force Frodo'd used. 

There came a tumultuously ugly shriek of agony from the tree, and Frodo knew that he had succeeded. He reached forward to pull the sword out and finish the job, but the limb Frodo was gripping one-handed suddenly began to tremor violently, in an obvious effort to rid itself of him. Not expecting this sudden effort, Frodo's remaining hand slipped from the branch. As he began to fall, Frodo flung his hands out in a last-ditch attempt to destroy the monster. He felt himself catch the handle of his sword, and his body hit the side of the tree with enough force then, that the blade bent sharply downwards, and slowly began to slide out, with his weight against it. The tree began a pathetic roar of protest.

Frodo looked down at the others, who were still trying to bring the tree down from the bottom. Before he could call anything out to them, the sword came out completely, and he plummeted to the forest floor.

**********

Frodo fell hard onto the ground and into unconsciousness, several feet from the bulk of the fellowship. Gandalf turned around, his eyes widening when he spotted the fallen hobbit.

"Frodo," he ran to his side, kneeling down. 

As the wizard did this, the giant tree behind him suddenly swayed and fell with great force. As it hit the forest floor, it turned suddenly back into the familiar beast, lying crumpled on the leaves, its neck pierced. It was dead.

~~End of Part 10

Author's Note: This isn't the complete end! We have one more chapter to go! :o) 


	11. Deliverance

**Monstrous**

**by**** Leafy**

Author's Note: This is my first LOTR fanfic ever. It is loosely based on an episode of the television show "Red Dwarf". 

                                Also, this fic is more based on the movie of Fellowship of the Ring, rather than the books.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I, the author of this fic, do not own anything Lord of the Rings or Red Dwarf.

Thank you for the fabulous reviews, everybody.

**Tiggivon****: Thank you for this wonderful review. All of your reviews and all of your encouragement have been a joy to read, and I hope that you will read and enjoy my next story, too. I'm so glad that you got so much pleasure out of this fic. :o) Thank you!**

**Raider314: Thanks for the great review! I've much enjoyed reading your reviews. Thanks for the tips, compliments, comments, and suggestions. I've loved them all. :o)**

**Marissa: :o) Thanks! Your reviews have been fun to read, and I hope you'll tune in for my next story, too. :o) Thank you again!**

**Europa****: Thank you for the review, and for all of the reviews. I've loved your feedback, it was very kind of you. I'm glad you enjoyed this story. :o)  **

*              *              *

Frodo could feel the warmth of the morning sun shining on his eyelids before he opened them. He felt somehow safe and secure, though he could feel that he was lying on his cloak on the ground, and his head ached as if something had fallen on it. He lay motionless, content, for a few seconds. Then, in a rush, he remembered all that had happened.

He sat up abruptly, his eyes snapping open, the pain he felt forgotten. In place of it now, worry. He looked around, just in time to see Aragorn turn to him from a few feet away. Almost imperceptible relief crossed the ranger's face as he got up and made his way over to Frodo.

"How do you feel?" he asked softly when he reached him, sounding still concerned.

"Not bad," said Frodo, after brief consideration. "What about the monster? What about the others? Where's Sam?" he asked the last question with alarm, recalling the last image he had of Sam, high in the tree before it collapsed. 

"Sam's fine," Aragorn assured him quietly, taking Frodo's arm to support him as he got to his feet. "He was lucky enough to fall into some bushes when the tree came down. We've all been restored, the monster is dead; you destroyed it."

Frodo looked away now, a bit embarassed. A few yards before him, Gandalf, Gimli, and Boromir sat side by side on the thin trunk of a fallen tree. A small figure stood on the other side of it, looking away into the trees, then, slowly, turning its head toward Frodo.

"_Frodo!_" came the exclamation, and Sam bounded over the tree, up to his friend, taking Frodo's arm as Aragorn released it, stepping back to let the friends have their own time together.

"How do you feel?" Sam began.

"I'm fine," Frodo replied, giving him a hug, which Sam happily returned.

Sam's face held a hindered relief as the hug ended. He looked into Frodo's eyes, a tad mournful.

"Frodo," he said heavily. "I--just want to say that I'm…My behavior--"

"It's alright, Sam" Frodo interrupted with a smile. "We weren't ourselves. None of us were."

"Indeed," Gimli cut in from his seat. "It's terribly embarassing, remembering how very unhelpful we were."

"You came through in the end," said Frodo kindly, looking over.

Just then, another small figure emerged from the trees on the other side of the clearing, carrying two bulging packs.

"I found some strawberries," Pippin said happily, with his mouth full, lugging his filled-to-capacity bags over to the fallen tree.

"Excellent," said Boromir, getting off the tree and unburdening the hobbit. "This should sustain us for a while. Now, where are--"

Before he could finish his sentence, Merry stepped through the trees, blinking drowsily as if he'd just woken up from a long nap. He smiled at the others as Legolas appeared silently behind him, his pale face now clean and bright once more, his once-wounded arm bandaged finally, neatly. The sun shone brightly on his fine blonde hair, which was tied back out of his face again, as he, to, smiled expectantly at the rest of the company. 

"Right, that's everyone," said Gimli, standing up. "We should set out."

"Just a minute, Gimli," said Gandalf, pulling something out from inside his robes, turning around. "Frodo,"

The hobbit looked up, his expression indicating that he knew just what the wizard was talking about. Slowly, soberly, he walked over and extended his hand resolutely. Gandalf, holding it by its chain, dropped the ring onto Frodo's palm, and the hobbit drew the chain over his head, looking up at the wizard with a strange sort of gratitude.

"You know, I'm almost glad that I can do this again," he said softly.

Gandalf smiled admiringly at him, then straightened up, looking off to the horizon as the sun began to rise over the treetops. He looked all around, at Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, and Aragorn.

"Let us go," he said.

The End

**Author's Note: Some of you may have noticed in Chapter 10 that I said I was working on a sequel. Well, I am working on another LOTR story, but it's turning out to be more of a stand-alone than a sequel. It's probably going to be more serious than this one, but it should be exciting, all the same. The working title is "The Difference", and I'm writing the first part now, so it should be up soon!**

**I just want to thank everyone who reviewed my story for doing so. It's really kind, I look forward to reading the reviews so much, they're a gigantic confidence-booster. Thank you! :o)**

**And, I want to thank all of you, whether or not you reviewed, for reading and sticking with this story. Thank you for your patience in waiting for the updates, and thank you for giving me your time.**

**See you next story!**

**Leafy **)--


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